


Underfell sans Love

by FelliSkelli



Series: Falling into LOVE [1]
Category: Underfell AU - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Bad Puns, Broken Bones, Depression, Dysfunctional Relationships, Ecto-Genitalia, Ecto-Tongue, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sex, Fellcest - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Frisk - Freeform, Gore, M/M, Masturbation, Narcolepsy, Near Death, Needy Sans, Night Terrors, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD, Praise Kink, Sans Has a Bad Time, Sans Needs A Hug, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Seriously Get Sans A Hug Already, Sexual Tension, Sibling Incest, Slow Build, Smut, Suicidal Ideation, UF!Pap/UF!Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Unethical Experimentation, Vaginal Sex, beatings, cuddles make things better, frisk is a sweetie, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelliSkelli/pseuds/FelliSkelli
Summary: After the humans betrayed the monsters and trapped them Underground the monsters became desperate to survive. After Asriel and Chara both died Asgore became vicious, bloodthirsty and declared continual war on any human who happened to fall down, declared that it was ‘kill-or-be-killed’ while Toriel retreated into the Ruins with her grief. The rest of the monsters steadily become more violent, ruthless and terrified of everything. Sans is on the brink of loosing his mind completely, having full knowledge of the resets and memories of the various timelines, and even though it has been several years since the last time Flowery reset he can't shake the constant fear that the world will begin to reset again, and there is nothing he can do to stop it. He is sunk in a deep depression, caring for nothing but sleep and alcohol, even his beloved brother seems to have given up on him. He just waits to die, thinking longingly of happier times with Papyrus, lamenting his worthless existence and his one greatest failure; until one day a human arrives...





	1. Nightmares of failure

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, here goes. I hope someone enjoys this, this plot bunny viciously attacked me, and I just had to write. It starts out a bit slow, but picks up steam; so sit back and enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, I work on call as a QA tester, and had some 10 hour night shifts, and it does not take a lot of thought process, so I had so many, many hours to think of this story, and the plot bunnies bred like crazy, so I've thought about bringing Gaster, and so I needed to rewrite things a little bit. I've added some to each chapter, and some is plot important, so I hope it is not too much trouble to reread this...

_ “YOU USELESS, WORTHLESS PIECE OF TRASH; CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT---!” the snarled words echoed in his mind, ricocheting around his skull until they were all he could think of as he stumbled almost blindly from tree to tree as he wandered the empty forest, no other sound but the wind in the skeletal branches of the dying trees. He had his hands pressed to his non-existent ears, trying in vain to block out the words that felt like knives to his soul. Red tears stained his cheeks as they ran heated trails from his empty eye sockets. _

_ What hurt more than the fact that Papyrus would say such things to him was that he could not deny those words, he was all those things and more, he’d failed his brother so many times, in every way.  _

_ He had been supposed to protect his brother; that was all he was good for. He had been created for becoming his father’s heir, for carrying on his legacy, for retaining his vast array of scientific knowledge, made as a receptacle of his father’s intelligence after Gaster had become the Royal Scientist, he had even assisted with the Core! But after proving unfitting for the role, too weak, too fragile, too delicate...his father had made a new son. A stronger, fiercer, better son. And Sans had been given the duty to protect his brother, and as Sans had adored Papyrus from the first moment he had seen him, for him, nothing else mattered, nothing else existed for him, but protecting Papyrus.  _

__ And he failed.  
_   
_ __ Time after time.

_ And even though his love for Papyrus had only ever grown, his sweet, loving, adoring little brother had grown to hate and despise him. Knowing only that he must defend himself, that he could not rely on his older brother. _

_ It was that which hurt Sans the most. _

_ Those  words of disgust and disdain were the last words his brother had said to him this morning before Sans took a shortcut away. And now he could not find Papyrus anywhere. _

_ The snow crunched sharply beneath his shoes, and he broke into a run as he searched desperately through the forest, the breath he did not need catching under his ribs with an icy bite that was almost painful. It was dark and cold and too quiet. Where was Papyrus, his brother should have been attending to his traps by now. Sans turned a corner and saw a bright red fabric waving in the wind, caught in the low branches of a tree. It was his brother’s…he ran towards the fabric, grabbed it in trembling fingers. He looked around desperately, and then turned to look behind the tree. _

_ A pile of dust. He dropped limply (bonelessly) to his knees, eye sockets wide and blank. He reached out a trembling hand. _

_ No…Papyrus, his baby brother…his most precious monster, no…the human, it was the human! Why now?! After all this time?! NO No no nonononononooo~ _

_ \--- _

Sans started awake, sweat beading his brow and his left eye glowing red with power. He was sitting in his bed, one hand clutching his chest where his soul beat wild in his chest, and the other clutched his cracked skull where a headache had begun to throb. He started to hyperventilate while he absentmindedly picked at the edge of the crack, rubbing off flakes of dust without realizing it. The crack was not healing because he kept picking at the edge, breaking it like a scab on something fleshy. His eye sockets felt itchy and gummy with dried tears. His chest heaved with the panicked breath that he did not actually need, and his nonexistent-lungs burned with the air he was not able to get enough of. 

As he calmed down slightly, he realized he had been dreaming again.

(Boss isn’t dead, he’s alive; he’s sleeping in his own room right now, safe and sound)

He dropped his hands slowly from his face and gripped his phalanxes around the red leather collar that he had never taken off since the day his brother had given it to him. It was his only link to the brother who had once loved him. Proof that he belonged to Papyrus, that he had a purpose, that someone wanted him.

It was worn, dirty, barely held together any longer.

Just like him.

He had nightmares most nights, but usually he did not remember them upon waking up after the initial panic died down. But anytime he remembered the first time he’d seen his brother die he was overcome by loneliness and felt his worthlessness like an overwhelming weight on his back, trying to smother him.

He was an idiot; a human had not been seen outside the Ruins in the Underground in almost a 10 years. And in all the time that the monsters had been trapped here by the treacherous humans only two or three-no one could agree on how many- humans had made it outside the Ruins. And they had invariably all gone on killing sprees, dusting countless monsters, resetting and killing again, resetting again and again before the great and terrible Asgore had stepped in.

(Asgore was powerful, nothing could kill Boss as long as they were loyal to Asgore)

But the memory of San’s greatest fail still haunted him continuously.

All he had to do was see the scar on his brother’s face.

(he had failed so many times, but this was the worst thing he’d ever failed to do, failed to protect his brother, failed to fulfil the reason of existence)

_ *You’re the big brother, Sans, you need to protect Papyrus for me; be brave, Sans. This will make you stronger…* _

He clenched his sharpened teeth together so hard he could hear them grinding together, and his questing fingers felt along the outside of the crack above his left eye, prodding at the still painful injury in self-inflicted punishment and he hoped he had not called out in his sleep again, Papyrus had warned him about disrupting his own sleep with his pathetic whimpers.

(so pathetic, having nightmares like a baby-bones, he was so weak)

The resets had stopped occurring almost two year ago. That stupid little flower had obviously given up on trying to make everyone play nice. And although Sans would never admit it, he missed the little weed dogging his step, telling him how awful killing was

(but the world is kill or be killed)

as if he did not already know. Sans looked down at his hands as if they were not his own, he could almost see the dust on them, in his finger joints, taunting him. He could almost feel the particles, sticking to his bones, even after countless resets.

(he could not wash the stain of death off no matter how hard he tried)

He had never had the taste for violence, even with that being the most used currency down here, but during some of the resets, when they were occurring daily, and in a few instances hourly he had snapped and gone on a killing spree…he still didn’t know how many he’d killed. But a day later they were all alive again, their existence taunting his inability to achieve anything. 

Now he barely cared, summoning his bones and his Gaster Blasters took too much energy.

(everything took too much energy for him of late)

But he had not seen Flowey in two years, since the resets had stopped occurring, maybe he had died.

(that would be a pity, the flower had not been so bad, he had almost been a friend, or at least something that did not try to kill him)

He scrubbed his forearm across his face, wiping up the remains his tears as if there was anyone here who would judge, but being ashamed of the appearance of weakness anyways.

(always crying, Boss would be angry if he saw)

There had been a time when he could have gone to his brother and Papyrus would have let him into his bed to comfort him after a nightmare. There was a time when he would have held Sans and planted an awkward skeleton kiss on his forehead and promised to make a great spaghetti dinner to help him forget about his listlessness, he would hold him when he was struck by his frequent panic attacks. He would try to get Sans’ mind of his traumatic experiences by asking his help in designing a new trap.

(those days were long gone)

Now he barely cared what Sans did anymore unless Sans failed in a task Papyrus had set for him, and even then his little brother barely trusted him with anything anymore, he had already concluded what Sans had always known about himself, that he was a pathetic, worthless, piece of trash.

(he was all those things and more, why did Boss even put up with his shit)

Papyrus now could care less if Sans spent 15 hours a day sleeping, forgoing food and exercise, as long as he kept up with his duty to the Royal Guards as a sentry set outside the Ruins.

(so he just slept whenever he could)

Or that Sans spent almost every night at Grillby’s shit-faced and had to be dragged home half the time because he had kept drinking until he passed out.

(so he got shit faced almost every night and had to be dragged home)

He could care less that Sans was becoming more haggard and withdrawn and dead inside with every passing day; all he cared about was his personal advancement and his reputation. He hated his weak older brother who only had a measly 1 HP and was too lazy to do anything with himself.

(he was so tired)

He did not even have sex with him anymore. That was a waste of precious time and energy better spent towards more ‘advantageous pursuits’, Papyrus had told him with a sneer the last time Sans had dared to timidly bring the topic up.

(Sans missed his Boss’s touch, even a slap would be welcome now)

The change had happened after he had become Undyne’s second in command. He had always been cold, ruthless and fearless; at least ever since he realized he could not depend on Sans to save him (to Sans eternal regret that tore him through his soul every time he saw Papyrus look at him with disgust), but at least he had cared about his big brother. He had made sure that Sans was eating and doing something with his life, he made sure he was safe, made sure that he never fell asleep in any place where he might be in danger. And even though sex with Papyrus had always been rough, a way for Papyrus to dump stress and anger, a way to dominate his brother; he had always been sure that no lasting damage was inflicted and that Sans had his own release.

(it was all Undyne’s fault, she did this, she changed Boss, she ruined him, she had to die)

Now it was if every moment he was with his brother that Papyrus was weighing the pros and cons of his existence. And one of these days he would simply dust Sans himself with no qualm.

(what was he waiting for, Sans was so tired, he almost welcomed death at this point)

But Sans could not stop loving his baby bro. Papyrus was all he had. His only link to sanity. This most important thing in his life. What was left of his life. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his ankles, burying his face in his knees and trembling, trying not to cry.

(Boss was all he had)

His brother was right. He was weak. Worthless. He only held Papyrus back.

(holding him back from the greatness he deserved)

He was also tired. Always so tired. Just sitting here thinking about what a wretch he was, was taking more energy than he could spare, his eyes drifted shut but he did not quite fall back asleep yet.

(so tired)

And even though it had been so long since the last reset, every day he still woke up, convinced that time had been turned back. Half hoping that time had been turned back. Because two years ago, things had not been quite as bad as they were now.

(it could happen any moment, this, or the next, it would happen again, he knew it would, it would never stop, never ever ever stop)

The murder rate had still been high, and a lot of monsters were going hungry, but there had still been a sense of community, a slim sense of hope that one day the final human needed would appear, that they could go to the surface one day.

(see the real stars)

But almost no one cared anymore. No one believed that a human would ever appear again, no one but the Royal Guards. And the people were beginning to get angry and restless. It was no longer safe to walk alone after dark. Fights broke out over the smallest insult, fights that inevitably ended with one or more monsters being turned into dust. One less monster to rattle about in the Underground.

( _ rattle _ like  _ bones _ , right boss?)

There were less than a thousand of them now. Their population continued to dwindle every day. Sans estimated that in a year, maybe two, they would all be dead. So what was the point in even trying anymore?

(monsters are an endangered species now, the humans had won the second round too, this time the monsters doing all the dirty work themselves)

“heh…i’m all out of  _ guts  _ it seems…” he chuckled weakly.

(that was horrible, the old Boss would have loved it)

It was getting harder to keep the fridge stocked,

(not that he usually worried about that, Papyrus did all the cooking)

and he had heard rumors of a supply shortage around town the other die. There were whispers of monsters starving to death, or resorting to eating each-other. That was stupid, how did you even eat someone without them turning into dust?

(he was so hungry, when did he last have something to eat?)

But it looked like the way things were was going from kill-or-be-killed to eat-or-be-eaten. He gave a humorless laugh; no one would be interested in trying to eat a skeleton. But if they did at least he would then serve some sort of purpose at last.

(he, have a purpose? what a laugh)

Would he come back if a reset happened?

(the reset would inevitably happen, they never stopped, never ever ever)

He was so tired.

(so tired)

He went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I have drawn a picture for this chapter [HERE](http://felliskelli.tumblr.com/image/150885537006)


	2. A rude awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UF!Papyrus is really kinda awful in this chapter, and poor Sans is so pent up. Warning for some awful puns and self-harm, as well as Sans fantasizing about Papyrus.

“WAKE UP YOU LAZY PIECE OF SHIT; IT’S TIME TO DO THE ONLY THING YOU ARE GOOD FOR SINCE YOU CAN’T EVEN BOTHER TO DO ANYTHING ELSE EVEN SLIGHTLY PRODUCTIVE WITH YOUR WORTHLESS EXISTENCE!”

He was knocked awake by a jolt as Papyrus kicked his bed, sending it sliding across the room and bouncing off the wall. All he ever slept on was that single worn mattress, curled up in all his blankets; tangled in a messy nest. His eyes snapped open and he sat up immediately to gauge his brother’s mood from his expression as he slowly untangled himself.

(don’t make eye contact, that’s a sign of aggression)

Papyrus was scowling, but that was nothing new. His hands were on his hips and his eyes were glowing red, but he did not seem overly angry, just impatient. As always. He never had patience for Sans anymore, no matter how hard Sans tried.

Sans hurried out of bed so that his brother would have no excuse to get angry.

(keep him calm, keep him happy)

 **“hey boss, you seem a little _sternum_ this morning, did something _rattle_ your _bones_** **?”** He asked with a weak smile, hoping to see Papyrus wince at the awfulness of the pun. Like he used to.

Papyrus didn’t even blink and Sans tried not to wilt.

(Boss used to yell at his puns but secretly enjoy them)

He forced his habitual smile wider and stretched his arms above his head with enthusiasm he in no way felt, and heard his bones pop with a little twitch of dread. His ribs were still cracked. He winced slightly when he felt his lower spine creak. He really needed to move around more, he was getting stiff. Or maybe it was lack of nutrition. Either way, he felt a little weaker every day.

(so tired already, and he just got up)

Papyrus had not even waited to give Sans any further greetings or even any further orders; as soon as he had seen that Sans was not going to be falling back to sleep he had whirled on a heel and stomped away to go downstairs, his back straight and his fists clenched.

(can’t even stand to look at his weak and pathetic big brother)

Sans rubbed the back of his head wearily with one hand and chuckled softly with no mirth. He sighed and let his hand drop to his side. He reached to the end of his bed and pulled his black hoody lined in off-white fur out of the tangle of clothes at the end that he never bothered to put away. It did not even occur to him to pull his bed back into place; that would take too much work.

He pulled his over-sized hoody on, the hood shadowing his eyes, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He hardly ever bothered to undress before collapsing every night, so he was still wearing his track shorts and baggy red t-shirt from the previous day. He felt more comfortable when he was covered in layers, hiding his body.

Grinning widely but lifelessly he went downstairs to maybe (if he was lucky) have some portion of breakfast. If Papyrus was feeling magnanimous.

(a rare and rarer occurrence nowadays)

Today he was not.

(not a huge surprise)

Papyrus was sitting at the table, a single portion of spaghetti set before him along with a glass of milk. He did not even glance at Sans when he came into the room. Sans stood awkwardly in the entrance to the kitchen for a moment and then walked over to the fridge. It was practically empty; he pulled out a small packet of mustard (his last) and looked at it sadly for a moment before stuffing it in his pocket.

(so hungry, but not as much as he was tired)

 **“heh, sorta down to the _bare-bones_** **here, boss…”** He chuckled with a grin and he turned to see his brother’s reaction. He could hear his brother pause in his eating, but that was his only response. Papyrus started to eat again after only that momentary pause, slurping the noodles with an exaggerated noise and Sans could not help the small flush that colored his cheeks and he quickly turned away to hide his reaction.

(boss could conjure such a talented tongue, so long…so thick)

Sans bit down on his bottom teeth and tried not to pant audibly, he could feel himself becoming wet and against his will he felt his pussy form at the base of his pelvis, already dripping with need, and he prayed desperately that Papyrus would not be able to smell him. He grabbed frantically at his crotch and tried to press back the flow of magic before Papyrus should happen to see him. He pressed himself against the side of the fridge to keep from rocking his hips and he screwed his eyes shut and tried to forget the image of the last time his brother had used that tongue on him--

\---

_He had come home glowering furiously, almost trembling with rage, his face flushed with anger, and when Sans had looked up from where he sat on the couch, he had stammered a startled greeting before Papyrus had grabbed him and immediately slammed Sans against the wall by his throat before kissing him hungrily. Sans had been startled at first, but eager to please his brother and he had gone limp in his brother’s hold, submissive. Willing. So eager._

_Papyrus licked his brother’s teeth slowly until Sans opened his mouth with a low moan to allow his brother to all but stick his long tongue down his quickly conjured throat. Their tongues wrestled for a short while and Sans could feel a slow burning heat kindle in his pelvis as his lust built. His face flushed red as he submitted to his brother._

_Sans had not expected his brother to then drop to his knees while yanking Sans’ shorts down to his ankles and lapping frantically at his pelvic bone, making a noise of satisfaction when Sans’ crimson magic coalesced into a dripping entrance almost immediately. His ectoplasmic cunt had formed quicker than normal, but his brother had him so hot and needy that his magic was almost in tune with Papyrus’ will. The moment his weeping vagina had formed Papyrus had stuck his thick tongue as deeply inside the folds as he could reach, sucking hungrily at his brother’s clit every so often._

_**“aaahn…”** he moaned, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he tried to stifle his cries of pleasure. Drool dripped out the corner of his mouth and between his fingers and he panted as he tried to roll his hips closer to his brother’s ectoplasmic tongue; but Papyrus was holding his hips in a grip just barely light enough to not break his bones and he kept him still as he tongue fucked him senseless. _

_" **mmm...haaahn haaa!"** Sans gasped, throwing his head back and arching his spine, trying to get his brother's tongue even deeper, eye lights shining like hearts. _

_Eventually Papyrus pulled back with a  low growl, “I WANT TO HEAR YOUR SWEET VOICE, SANS!” Papyrus demanded while Sans whined at the loss of stimulation._

_**“please, boss…I neeed…”** Sans gasped wantonly, trying to rock his hips closer to his brother’s face. Papyrus however seemed less frantic now and simply kissed Sans’ pelvic bone, slowly trailing his tongue along the iliac crest. _

_**“bosss~  please…please!”** Sans whined desperately, tears pooling in the corners of his eye sockets and he begged shamelessly. _

_“YOU’RE SUCH A SLUT, SANS…” Papyrus purred as he slowly lapped at Sans’ weeping entrance. Sans panted heavily as Papyrus began to increase his pace, his tongue reaching almost to his cervix with each thrust and then flattening against the walls of his vagina. Once he shifted one of his hands to thumb Sans’ clit he came completely undone, and Papyrus drank his magical release as if it were a rare treat, actually moaning at the taste._

_“THANKS SANS, I NEEDED A NICE DRINK AFTER THE DAY I HAD.” Papyrus smirked while giving his big brother a skeleton kiss on the top of the head, leaving him collapsed on the floor against the wall, still satiated and limp with release._

\---

\--and his face was becoming more flushed and he knew he was panting and drooling and his hands were frantically rubbing at his pubis. He knew that if his brother happened to make the slightest come on to him, he would fall to his feet begging to be fucked. It had been so long since he’d had sex, and almost any time his brother paid him any attention it turned him on. He was such a sick horny slut.

(he was so weak, stars, why did Boss turn him on so much when he wasn’t even trying)

“THEN WHY DON’T YOU ACTUALLY MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL FOR ONCE AND DO SOME SHOPPING; YOU THINK I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEED TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE?!” Papyrus finally demanded after a moment, Sans flinched slightly at the venom in his brother’s voice but was so happy to be acknowledged that he grinned wide enough to stretch his cheek-bones. But at the same time the disgust in his brother’s voice had the perverse reaction of making him more aroused. He could not turn to face his brother until he was certain he had his hormones under control. He felt closer and closer every day to falling into a sub-heat that aside from every little thing his brother doing making him wet, he stayed wet for hours unless he could shock himself out of arousal.

He had no idea why his body seemed to think that know was an acceptable time to mate, especially in his world; the Underground was dangerous, too dangerous for someone to be driven lust maddened by their heat, it was just an open invitation for attack, for domination. Monsters would naturally go into heat several times a year, some species more often than others, but with how cruel and violent society had become almost no one went into heat anymore.But his body seemed not to get the memo and every couple months he needed to be fucked senseless by his brother; thankfully Papyrus didn’t seem time mind, he took it as a challenge for his stamina. And Sans submissiveness usually turned him on. But lately….with how much Papyrus hated him, if Sans fell into heat, Papyrus might not even want anything to do with him.

  
Just the thought of suffering through heat with his assistance, with no assistance had him almost ready to sob. He took a deep shuddering breath to try and calm himself, to hide his need, to hide his fear.

**“heh, sure, boss…i can….i can do that…”** He stammered slightly, but was still hoping to please his brother with this willingness to do work.

“OH, WILL YOU NOW, HOW GRACIOUS! AND HOW ARE YOU GOING TO SCREW THIS SIMPLE TASK UP?” Papyrus asked with a disgusted sneer. Sans remembered the last time, months ago, that Papyrus had asked (well, demanded) he do something. It wasn’t his fault that he was so tired all the time. I mean, he could have actually put a bit a more effort into following that Icecap to his stupid rebellion meeting thing that Papyrus was convinced was going on, but the kid got started talking about his hat to a little monster kid, and Sans had gotten bored and wandered off, losing track of the Icecap. Papyrus had been furious over that misstep.

(furious? _tibia_ honest he was  beyond pissed)

Papyrus had been so angry his whole face and torso had been red with his magic; he had growled at Sans, told him that since he wanted to wander off so much, that he could just do so on a broken leg, and had snapped his fibula like it was kindling. Sans had not been able to walk for a week, and his fibula still hurt when the weather was particularly bad. He had been terrified that Papyrus would actually dust him that time, but his brother had held back at the last second. It had still taken days to heal because Papyrus refused to waste any of his own magic to heal Sans himself (he could heal when he wanted to, he was not the best, but he had a fine control of his magic) and he could hardly bother to take the time to take Sans to see a healer, so Sans had had to take some judicious shortcuts to the store by himself to get some healing tonic.

(Boss hadn’t been happy about that ‘waste’ of money but had at least kept the punishment verbal that time)

And it was the memory of that pain that finally cut through his arousal, leaving him feeling drained and unfulfilled, but at least his crotch was no longer glowing through his pants and he was no longer flushed in need. He was still a little damp with his own fluids, but he hoped his brother would not notice.

(he was such a needy slut)

He shoved his hands into his pockets for a moment out of habit before bringing them back out and twisting his fingers together nervously as he turned to face his brother, grinding his finger bones together so hard that he was sure Papyrus could hear them grind. **“i know i, uh,** **_boned_ ** **up last time, boss, but, i can at least do the shopping!”**  Sans proclaimed with a big grin. Papyrus’ sneer seemed to twitch but Sans might have just been seeing things.

(did he like that pun?)

“WELL SEE THAT YOU DO NOT FAIL TO DO YOUR DUTIES AS A SENTRY AS WELL, THAT IS IF YOU CAN MANAGE TO NOT SLEEP THROUGH YOUR SHIFT FOR ONCE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM OFF TO SEE UNDYNE FOR GREAT TRAINING! ONCE YOU SEE A HUMAN YOU MAKE SURE TO BRING IT TO ME!” Papyrus declared while jumping to his feet with a burst of energy. He swept his scarf back over his shoulders so that it lay like a cape and left the house without a single backward glance.

(still can hardly bear to look at him)

 **“a human…heh. yeah. sure…”** Sans muttered as the door slammed shut behind his brother. **“there are not any fucking humans left anymore…”**

(but that won’t stop the resets, nothing stops the resets)

He stared down at his hands, as if seeing the cracks in his finger bones for the first time. How long has it been since he was whole and undamaged? Was he ever?

(Never, ever, never ever ever)

Sighing, his teeth bared in a mockery of a friendly smile he left the house, pulling out the pack of mustard and ripping it open with his teeth, his golden tooth flashing in the ambient light. He drank the contents of the packet in a single swallow and stuffed the trash back in his packet. That was the only thing he’d had to eat in days.

(so hungry)

He stuffed his hands back into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, and his eye glowing with an expressive show of magic as he began to swagger through Snowdin, his grin in place as usual. There were not many on the street at this time of the morning, and those that were out were furtive in their movements, no one took their time. And they would avoid him, some out of fear, some out of disgust, and no one would meet his eyes.

(heck, he wouldn’t meet his eyes either)

They either hated him because his brother was a huge dick who would dust anyone who dare look at the Great Papyrus wrong or on the order of the Royal Guard (or for any other reason), or because he was a weak-ass 1 HP monster who they could not touch for fear of retribution from the aforementioned huge dick.

(but he loved Boss’s huge dick…)

He stiffened with a quickly suppressed moan when his wayward thoughts flickered across a path he had tried to leave alone. He felt drool pool in his mouth as his tongue manifested against his will and lust pooled in his groin and he frantically bit back the feeling by furiously stabbing a sharp phalanx into the hole in his skull, yelping with pain, embracing the pain.

(pain was good, it meant he was alive, was it worth it though)

He slowly pulled his hand down his face, trying not to sob as he leaned against the side of a tree, hoping no one would take advantage of his vulnerability. His eyes flickered frantically around the street, but it did not seem that anyone was paying any attention to him.

(safe, safe for now, get moving)

He felt sweat beading his brow with the effort of keeping his eye glowing; it used a lot of energy but he had to keep up appearances. He always tried to look as intimidating as possible, even if no one bought it. At the very least the few bar patrons he was on speaking terms with at Grillby’s would respectfully not mention how stupid his intimidation ploy was.

(he knew it was stupid)

He decided he did not feel like walking the whole way through Snowdin and past Papyrus’ traps today, so Sans took a shortcut.

(so tired)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I've added a bit to some passages, and here is a picture I drew to go along with the chapter [HERE](http://felliskelli.tumblr.com/image/150886093096)


	3. Asleep on the job

 

 Sans arrived at his station without incident or fanfare. To shortcut was simple; Sans just wrapped himself in his magic like a cocoon and the intention to be elsewhere, pictured his destination in his mind, and then he was there instantaneously.  He’d been able to use his shortcuts ever since the prior Royal Scientist, Dr. W.D. Gaster, had finished running his experiments; after he’d eventually concluded that Sans was a failure with his single HP.

Sans sighed and looked down at his feet, that thought was maybe a bit uncharitable. Gaster had been a rather good father, as such things go. Especially down here. Absentee and workaholic, and almost completely oblivious to anything that did not have to do with his science, but he had very sincerely loved his sons, Sans could remember that much of him. He had been so proud when Sans had began to help with his experiments, always boasted about how smart his eldest was, how brilliant he was. Even though Sans had been created to be a literal extension of Gaster’s mind, his father had always given him praise for his accomplishments, always treated him like he was his own being.

It was not his fault that Sans was too weak, too fragile...

Sans may be unable to take a hit, but in a twisted way that became a blessing because if he could not take a beating without being killed instantly, the denizens of Snowdin who hated him could not risk trying to torture him, because while Papyrus might not care if they hurt him he’d kill them for dusting him.

(small favors)

And while he could not take much of a hit, he could at least dish it out. Gaster had equipped Sans with his own Gaster Blasters, the ability to summon bones (an ability which Papyrus shared), and he had the ability to affect the SOUL of those he fought with blue magic. But although he had made sure that the small skeleton had a large reservoir of magic and powerful abilities he had not been able to do anything for Sans’ endurance.

But as he had fallen deeper into depression his magic reservoirs seemed to be at constant ebb. That put him in a very vulnerable position where all he could do when attacked was run. But as far as he knew, he was the only one who could use the shortcuts, even Papyrus couldn’t.

(all he was good for was running away, no wonder boss hated him)

He looked around the small clearing, making sure that nothing was out of order. No one really patrolled up to this point, but sometimes Lesser Dog came to kick snow at him, or ‘mark’ some trees.

(dogs liked to terrorize him, remind him how weak he was compared to his brother)

His sentry station was set in the back right corner; there were a couple bushes on the left side of the clearing; and a large, odd shaped lamp near the sentry station. There wasn’t really much else to look at. Fresh snow, packed snow, bushes, trees, lamp, station. Even if he was not so very tired, exhausted to the bone, it would be hard not to pass out from boredom.

(nothing ever happened, it was the same boring shit every day)

Sighing, Sans walked with heavy steps to his station, pulled out the stool which had been tucked neatly beneath the stand like he had left it last shift, and took a seat. It would be a long day. Long, boring, and cold. Not that the cold really affected him, being as he was just a skeleton after all, but it did make his soul hurt when the weather was especially bitter. He pulled his hoody tighter about his torso, staring down at the wooden shelf before him.

He began to trail his finger slowly along the wooden grain, following the whorls and lines while he let his mind drift--

\---

_ “HNNNN-” Papyrus grunted loudly while he sat on the couch with his head leaning back against the wall, his legs spread wide and Sans nestled between them, sucking happily on his brother’s dick, drool and other fluids leaking out the side of his gaping mouth. He gazed up at his brother’s face with adoration in his eyes and his face flushed red. He loved the taste of his brother’s cock, the weight of it on his conjured tongue, the feel of it stretching his throat, almost choking him. He was addicted to the taste of his magic, the feeling of him ramming down his throat, the feeling of his brother’s multiple piercings rubbing over his tongue. It made him so happy when his brother let him please him. He wrapped his fingers around his brother’s iliac crests and sucked deeper, swallowing around Papyrus’ member as his eyes rolled back and he moaned around his brothers cock, sending vibrations through his brother’s summoned length. _

_ “OH-STARS-GOOD-” Papyrus panted his approval as his fingers tightened around his brother’s skull and he bucked his hips to press himself deeper down his brother’s throat. _

_ Sans moaned once again, deep in his throat at the sound of Papyrus’ approving voice and the vibrations from his throat tightened around Papyrus’ cock and he suckled as hard as he could, trying to swallow as much as he could. Sans could hear his brother panting above him as his motions became more frantic. Sans was rocking his own hips, desperate for release, but Papyrus had forbidden him to touch himself, so his conjured cunt dripped red magic steadily on the floor between his knees. He whimpered, his expression turning pleading as he pressed his tongue against the base of Papyrus’ cock the best he could when his mouth was stuffed with the throbbing length. _

_ It did not take much longer for Papyrus to reach his release, and he came with a low growl. He held Sans’ head tight to his pelvis as he released, as if Sans would have refused to swallow; his eyes rolled back with pleasure at the taste. Once he was released he fell back on his heels, panting and desperate, his cunt weeping opening. _

_**“please…boss…i neeed-”** he whined helplessly. Papyrus looked down at him lazily; his legs still spread wide and his dick still half-erect. Sans could feel his eyes tearing up, and he licked his teeth frantically. Sometimes his brother would leave him wanting after getting himself off if he was punishing him. However today Papyrus seemed to think he deserved his own release, he leaned forward to lift Sans up underneath his arms and then sat back up, lifting Sans weight easily. He held Sans up for several moments, just watching him pant and wiggle in need. _

_ “What do you want?” Papyrus asked in a low purr. _

_**“i…need…” S** ans panted, his face red with embarrassment and he tried to rock himself onto his brother’s dick, arching his spine desperately, completely lost in his lust. He wanted his brother’s dick so bad! _

_ “YOU DON’T GET ANYTHING UNLESS YOU SAY WHAT YOU WANT, SANS!” Papyrus taunted, lowering Sans just enough to rub his now fully erect again cock against the weeping lips of Sans’ pussy. Sans whined with disappointment as he panted with need. _

_**“i…need your…cock in my…cunt…”** Sans moaned urgently his face bright red with embarrassment and lust, drool running down from the corner of her mouth. Papyrus complied by immediately slamming Sans down all the way until their pelvises met, his length rubbing deliciously against Sans’ fluttering walls and he gave a gasping wail of delight. Papyrus began a grueling pace as he slid his hands down to the smaller skeleton’s hips and slammed his hips up into Sans again and again. It was all Sans could do to just hang on, his hands on Papyrus’ shoulders. _

_**“bo-boss…so biiiig…i’m…so…fullll~”** Sans gasped as he fell forward, laying his head against the side of Papyrus’ neck. He could hear Papyrus chuckle darkly at the side of his skull. _

_ “YOU LOVE MY BIG DICK DON’T YOU, YOU DIRTY SLUT.” Papyrus snarled against his neck, his teeth grazing his shoulder. _

_**“yes, yes i do!”** Sans cried happily and then he gave a squeal which would have embarrassed him at any other time, **“there, again! please!”** he demanded urgently as he rolled his hips into Papyrus. Sans’ eyes rolled back in his head as Papyrus repeatedly rammed into his g-spot again and again and again. _

_ “SO FILTHY, GETTING OFF ON YOUR BROTHER’S COCK!” Papyrus accused with a low growl which had Sans spiralling even higher in pleasure, any time Papyrus referred to him in a familial way it just had him so hot. “YOU LOVE YOUR BROTHER’S COCK, DON’T YOU, SANS?” He asked with grunt as he began to thrust even harder into Sans’s willing cunt. _

_ Sans gave a small keening moan as he nodded frantically before wailing when papyrus slammed himself into the hilt before holding him still. Sans began to sob as he tried to rock onto his brother, needing release. _

_ "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION SANS, I EXPECT A VERBAL RESPONSE!” _

_**“yes...bro-THER!”** Sans squealed as Papyrus resumed his grueling pace, sobbing once more, but now with relief and the feeling of oncoming release. _

_**“i…i’m coming…coming…please, brother let me come!”** he begged. Papyrus bit onto the side of Sans’ neck, marking him. _

_ “COME FOR ME.” Papyrus growled and Sans released with a keening cry of delight. _

_ “GOOD BOY.” _

_ \--- _

\--He woke with startled gasp, his eye lights flickering frantically as he sat up and looked around. He had fallen asleep

(could not even stay awake for ten minutes, why was he even allowed to exist)

the moment he’d let his mind begin to wander, remembering the last time he and his brother had fucked. It had been so long, and he was so needy, they had used to have sex almost daily; but now Papyrus barely looked at him much less touched him. And back then when he had called Papyrus boss it had been meant in a teasing way, not a serious title. But after that night Papyrus had spent more and more time training with Undyne, and becoming more ruthless and less forgiving.

(or he just finally realized what a fuck up Sans was)

While he had been dreaming his magic and desires had formed his ecto-vagina once again; it was beginning to occur much more often. He gave a strangled moan and feeling his sins crawling down his back he reluctantly stuffed a hand down his pants to hesitatingly touch his weeping entrance.

He was so disgusting. 

Absolute scum; dreaming about his brother; lusting after his brother…when his brother had obviously come to his senses and no longer wanted anything to do with him.

But even hating himself, he was still sopping wet, his walls clenching, desperate for stimuli. It hurt, he needed Papyrus. Needed his cock, his tongue, even just his hand. Boss had such wonderful hands.

But since Boss wasn’t here…

Feeling like the lowest of worms, Sans began to thrust his fingers into himself, whining and trying to picture his fingers as being his brother’s, his eyes rolling back as he fantasized. Already over stimulated from his dream it did not take too much to finally reach release, and he came with a small wail, calling out his brother’s name.

He placed his hands flat against the wooden surface to support his weight, feeling limp with relief that no one had come upon him while he was so vulnerable. He could not decide which prospect was worse, to have been found by the dogs, his boss, or some random monster bumming for easy EXP.

(not like he’d be worth much unless they particularly loathed him, which was possible, he loathed himself)

None of those was a good thought. The dogs would have either fucked him up (as much as they could considering his lack of HP), terrorized him, or just go and tattle on him. Or worse of all, they would follow up with their continual threats to just rut him like a dog since he was a pathetic puppy who needed to learn discipline.

Their words.

But if they came upon him while he was dripping with arousal…

He didn’t want to think about it.

His boss would have yelled obscenities at him, punished him here, and punished him at home, and maybe punished him on the way home too.

The random monster bumming for EXP would have just killed him straight out, putting him out of his misery for good.

That was not so bad a thought.

(not like anyone would miss him)

Maybe he would be better off dead.

(Boss would be better off if he was dead)

But he was too much a coward to do anything about it himself.

(too much a coward for anything)

He sighed despondently and leaned back on the stool, staring up at the sky, watching the snow swirl down listlessly. He knew the feeling. It was not a bad feeling, to float mindlessly. Maybe he should just try to shortcut without a destination in mind.

(just end it)

But he might just wind up like Gaster, and that was a terrifying thought.

(his awareness spread eternally across time and space)

He shivered and looked down at his hands and it was almost as though he could see the shadows of holes appear on the backs of them, his metacarpals fused solid. Then he blinked and his hands were normal again. He shuddered and huddled deeper in his hoody.

Besides, he could not leave Papyrus alone, his brother needed him, even if he no longer cared about him in the least.

 **“oh boss, what was it that i did to make you hate me?”** He asked sadly, although he knew, deep inside he knew very well. He was such a fucking failure, how could anyone not hate him. His very existence was something that led to hate. It was all he deserved. He began to laugh softly and sadly to himself, his smile becoming a grimace.

(he was such a fucking waste)

Well, at the very least, he would stay awake for the rest of his shift today if it was the last thing he did. He still had to do the shopping. He would not fail in this, if he did his brother would probably never trust him with anything ever again.

(he hardly trusted him with anything now)

He decided to take a walk over to the door of the Ruins, maybe Toriel would be at the door, the Queen was utterly terrifying, but she did make some horrible jokes; she was something different at least. Well, she’d never given her name to him, but he knew who it was, everyone knew that the Queen had retreated into the Ruins after her fallout with Asgore.

(that fallout had been almost as bad as the war that had led to their being down here. just before Gaster had...had his accident. It was the thing of nightmares)

Also the walk would wake him up and allow him to make sure nothing got in while he was napping. He rubbed the back of his head for a moment and then stuffed his hands in his pockets as he strolled across the bridge, slipping between the series of bars set a bit too wide to effectively block the bridge off. Papyrus had set them up to keep anyone from being able to make a straight dash from the Ruins to Snowdin, but Sans thought it might have been more effective to just destroy the bridge or something.

(not that Boss cared for his opinion anymore)

It was quiet up near the door to the Ruins, and sometimes he sat there instead of the actual sentry station. Toriel was not always at the door (in fact she only came down once a day to check on the seal, and usually early in the morning), and when she was she was often a little creepier than he’d prefer, but she was one of the only people he talked to on a regular basis. And she did not want to kill him.

That was a major plus. She also laughed at all his jokes.

(she also had a great if somewhat maniacal laugh)

But after sitting at the door for an hour, even knocking a couple times, he got no response. She must have been busy. He would try again tomorrow.

He grunted softly as he pushed himself to his feet, brushing the snow off the seat of his pants and he wondered if it was late enough for him to get away with heading for home. It was hard to tell time in the Underground, it was just an instinctual sense for most of the denizens, either that or they just looked at the phones, but Boss had taken his away months ago...so after a moment he concluded that it was a bit early but he might be able to get away with it. So he took a leisurely stroll back towards the sentry station to make sure nothing was out of order and then walked partway to Snowdin to check his traps for once, and then took a shortcut home.

(so tired)

After arriving home he went into the kitchen and pulled down a cookie jar which is where Papyrus put the money he earned that went towards maintenance, incidentals, shopping, and so forth. He did not usually allow Sans to carry any money himself, but since he was doing the shopping he figured it would be allowed this once. He hesitated as he started to reach for some gold. He stared at the glowing coins, and felt a cold sweat run down his spine.

(he was not supposed to touch the money)

He would probably be punished no matter what he did, but he could at least do it on a full stomach. He grabbed 10 gold coins and put the cookie jar back up with a judicious use of blue magic. He tucked the coins deep in his pocket and took a shortcut to the store, not wanting to walk around Snowdin with money.

(they would know and attack)

He pulls his hood up to shadow his face as he enters the small store, allowing his eye to blaze and grins widely to keep up appearances, but he walked quickly, anxious to get back home. Not that he had a lot to get, they mostly lived off of spaghetti and the like, so he made sure to get several packages of noodles (including a new type of spiraling ones for Papyrus to experiment with), cheese, tomatoes, spices, onions, peppers, milk, meat (he did not ask what kind it was, done here you took what you could get), some oatmeal, sugar, and at last, for himself, mustard. He took everything up to the counter, and after some brief haggling for appearances sake he pushed 8 coins across the counter with a show of reluctance although he knew he had gotten a good deal on things.

(because they were scared of Boss)

He shortcut back home, appearing in the living room. He left everything on the table for his brother to deal with (including the coins) and then went to collapse on the couch, exhausted.

(so tired)

He did not have much chance to sleep before his brother came stomping in, slamming the door open as he usually did. Sans sat up slowly, his eyes on his brother the instant he came into their house to gauge his mood.

(always check right away before saying anything)

Papyrus saw him on the couch and looked furious.

(of course he was)

“DID YOU EVEN LEAVE THE HOUSE TODAY SANS?” He snarled, and Sans felt a sense of dejected indignation that his brother thought so lowly of him. It was true that sometimes he fell asleep after Papyrus left for his patrol, but that had only happened once or twice

(a month)

and he was always honest about it.

(Boss always knew if he lied)

 **“i d-did boss! i w-went to the sentry station like i was supposed to, and did the shopping…”** he stammered, pointing to the table. He dropped his head and continued a little softer. **“i…fell asleep for a little while but I still stayed there…and checked my traps too…”** he finished a little guiltily.

(he was such a fuck-)

“GOOD JOB SANS, MAYBE THERE IS HOPE FOR YOU YET!” Papyrus praised with only the slightest hint of sarcasm as he walked to the table to examine the groceries, looking at the new noodles curiously.

Sans just about came when he heard those long awaited words of praise from his brother and with a strangled moan he shortcut into his room to hide his shame, refusing dinner. Instead he spent the next hour furiously masturbating while clenching a pillow between his teeth to muffle his sobs of desperation and shame before falling into a fitful sleep.

He never saw his brother checking in on him, but he did wake up to find a plate of spaghetti waiting for him in the morning which had his soul flip-flopping in confusion, and when he cried as he ate it was more from confused joy than anything else. It was the best food he’d tasted in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I've lengthened a few passages of this chapter and I drew a picture for this scene, as seen in the link below.  
> [HERE](http://felliskelli.tumblr.com/image/150886769331)


	4. Heated interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a entirely new, almost completely entirely smut chapter here, enjoy the sin! This is the longest smut scene I've ever written, a slightly non-con.

He had woken up feeling warmer than usual, but actually feeling pretty good for once, he attributed his extra energy to the first decent meal he’d had in weeks. He had actually felt amazing, and had barely needed any goading to get up, and he had not noticed his brother’s gaze following him ceaselessly, the way he had seemed so tense and predatory.

He had actually been able to stay awake for once, even though the sentry station was a perfect napping spot, out of the way, quiet, protection from the elements…boring. Even the weather had been nice today for once, still cold enough to numb him to his marrow, but the wind was quiet. Too quiet. Almost as if the forest was holding its breath.

(now he was being poetic too, what bull-shit, a forest needed to breathe as much as a skeleton did)

Although he had been a bit nervous when he saw all the pawprints near his station, circling, as if they had been stalking something. It looked to have been two or three sets; he was guessing that it was Dogamy and Dogaressa, maybe Doggo. Better than Lesser and Greater Dog...at least he could get more than growls out of those three, but they were more...aggressive. Especially Dogaressa. She might be the only girl in the pack, but she came off as the Alpha.

He shivered and huddled nervously on his stool, wondering what they had been looking for.

The adrenaline from nerves had helped him stay awake, but after a couple hours, as he had calmed down, his eyes no longer needing to dart around frantically to make sure nothing was going to sneak up on him he had started to feel sleepy again. So he kept himself awake and semi-amused by counting the grain in the wood and trailing a finger through the snow that had gathered on the surface overnight. His mind had begun to wander as he remembered his brother’s words last night, the pleased look on his brother’s face when he had come home to see that Sans had actually accomplished something. His face flushed with pleasure at the memory of hearing his brother praise him. He squirmed in his seat a little.

(so pathetic, just a word of praise made him wet, even the memory of a word of praise)

He was starting to feel a lot warmer, almost hot, and his mind was starting to feel muzzy; he bucked his hips needfully, feeling his pussy form as he remembered the way his brother had praised him, the way he had showed actual pleasure in his accomplishment, the way he had actually fed him for the first time in months!

He bit back a moan, stuffing the side of his fist into his mouth and tried to stifle his growing arousal, pressing his femurs tightly together. He gave a small shuddering moan and tried to think of distinctly unarousing things, but the usual techniques he used to try and subdue his libido were not working, not even stabbing his sharpened phalanges into the crack above his left eye socket stopped his arousal from mounting.

He panted and bent forward, his eyes staring unseeingly at the wooden shelf, rubbing his femurs desperately together and he didn’t realize he had conjured his tongue even as it hung limply from his mouth as he panted, drool dribbling slowly to the table top. He was so _hot_...why was he so hot!

Oh, no….was his heat starting? How was that possible, it could not possibly be starting yet..but he was vaguely aware of his free hand reaching absently to rub frantic fingers against his heated mound through his shorts and he began to pant harder as he arched his back. He pressed his fingers harder against his pelvis, feeling his fingers slid between his moist lips over his already slick shorts, felt his clit already harden into a nub of super sensative nerves that had him bucking more frantically into his hand, whimpering with need before throwing his head back, whining in the back of his throat.

He was so hot…

“I told you I smelled a bitch in heat…” a low voice growled gruffly, and Sans whirled -his eye lights dilating as he almost fell off the stool- to face the voice. It was Doggo, as he had suspected, with Dogaressa and Dogamy; Sans quivered as he slid slowly off the stool to stand facing them, his arms wrapped around his chest. He could hear the three of them breathing noisily through their noses as the took in his scent, and it was only then that Sans realized that he reeked of musk, of heat, that the cold air would do nothing to mask his scent.

The three of them stood at the path leading into the clearing where Sans’ station was, just staring at him silently for several long moments, while Sans tried to resist the urge to run, knowing it would only incite them. Running from a predator was bad, running from dogs was worse. So he just shivered in place, even as the slowly began to stalk towards him, looking very pleased with themselves.

“Well, it’s not that we don’t…” started Dogaressa with a wry smirk,

"-trust your nose Doggo,” Dogamy continued with a deep inhale before licking his teeth lustily. Sans stared at the tall robed dog, startled, his eyes following the trace of his large wet tongue while he clenched his teeth tightly on a whine of need.

Dammit, why did they have to find him now, damn their noses...

“-but no-one goes into heat anymore…” Dogaressa continued with a wide leer and her eyes went half-lidded as she ran them up and down Sans’ shivering form. Sans stepped back from her, finding her unwavering attention intimidating.

Sans took a startled inhale and a new scent reached him, it was from the dogs, a similar musk to his, but more predatory, his knees felt weak and he was starting to pant shallowly.

“-but it looks like we were wrong…” Dogamy finished with a deep growl that rumbled through his chest, and to Sans utter horror it had his cunt clenching in want, his juices beginning to dribble down his femurs. If he had a tale it would certainly be tucked tightly between his legs right now. He grabbed the base of his hoody and tugged it down trying to cover his glowing crotch, even though he knew it was probably way too late to hide the evidence of his arousal.

“You look like you could use some help, pup…” Doggo growled, licking his own lips slowly as his voice lowered, rough and deep. Sans’ hips rocked automatically in response to the promise in Doggo’s voice, his eyes glazing over with lust and he could not stop the whine that slipped between his teeth as his hands reached up to grip his collar.

 **“n-no...i…”** Sans sputtered, pressing his femurs together tightly.

“That’s right, puppy…” Dogaressa cooed in a sickly sweet growl as she took the lead, “Such a good, dear puppy…” Sans turned to look at her slowly, a second needy whine slipping between his teeth as he began to pant more audibly.

It did not take long for the three dogs to reach him, but to Sans’ mind it took far too long, and by the time they surrounded him he was nearly incoherent with lust. He stared up at Dogaressa attentively, his mind recognizing her as the Alpha, as the one who would give him what he so desperately needed.

She reached forward with one paw to gently stroke his cheek and he nuzzled her lightly, pressing his face against her paw, enjoying the feeling of her plush fur against his overheated bone; he made a keening moan when he felt a larger paw press against his arousal. He humped wildly against the paw, his jaw gaping wide as he panted wildly. The large claw tipped fingers pressed harder against him and he began to rut frantically against the paw, searching for release.

 **“please, please, please,please…”** he panted like a mantra.

“Damn, the little slut wants it bad…” Doggo growled with wicked amusement.

“Fuck, he’s soaking through his shorts…” Dogamy growled with lust, his teeth slurping over his teeth once again as he pressed his fingers even harder against Sans, rubbing them between his pussy lips roughly.

“I wonder what that bastard Papyrus would think to see his little slut brother like this…” Dogaressa laughed with cruel amusement, as she leaned forward to lick her long tongue up the side of Sans’ neck; but Sans was too far gone to care about anyone seeing him like this, even his brother.

“You know, the only reason we haven’t fucked you to dust is because of that collar, don’t you?” Doggo hissed in Sans’ ear canal as he came to stand behind him, his hard length pressing into Sans’ firm ectoflesh -when had he conjured that?- and Sans made a needy whine as he rocked back against the hot throbbing length, not caring in the least about whatever it was that he had just said.

 **“pleaseeeee~”** he sobbed, he felt so hot…

Doggo and Dogamy began to stimulate him between them, Doggo’s length thrusting between his ass cheeks and Dogamy’s hand pressing between his pussy lips, but it wasn’t enough and tears began to pour down his cheeks; tears that Dogaressa lapped up with a deep hum of approval.

 **“not enough!”** Sans wailed in frustration, his hands leaving his collar to grip onto Dogamy’s arm, and he arched his spine as he attempted to pull the dog's broad fingers deeper into his pussy; an attempt that his clothing stalled, leaving him almost bawling with need. His pitiful attempts had the three dogs chuffing with laughter, but they finally moved to begin to satisfy him, Doggo pulled off his hoody, Dogaressa pulled his t-shirt up over his head, and Dogamy pulled down his shorts.

In a matter of seconds he was standing between them, naked save his shoes and socks. The three leered at him momentarily as they slowly removed their own clothing,  but before he had a chance to feel more than a slight relief from the chill in the air against his overheated bones Dogamy had put his large hands around Sans’ hips and lifted him as if he were a doll, and before Sans even knew what was happening he was slammed down on his large, throbbing member.

 **“wait-no-no-nooooo~!!”** Sans screamed in agony, his voice rising into a high wail as his cunt tried desperately to adjust to the huge member inside of himself; he may have been aroused past patience, but he had not been prepared for such a sudden violent intrusion, and he began to sob brokenly as Dogamy did not even let him adjust before he began pounding into him, over and over again, lifting Sans up until just his head was between his lips, and then slamming him down to the hilt. Sans gripped his fingers desperately into the thick fur of Dogamy’s chest, trying to anchor himself to anything as his eye lights flickered out.

Dogamy was huge, he filled Sans magic almost to the breaking point, and when he was fully seated his length reached all the way to Sans’ ribs. But although it had hurt at first, Sans heat would not be denied and it only took a few minutes of pain before his gasps of agony became moans of pleasure. And his moans grew into impassioned mewls and his eye lights returned, dilated and glassy with lust, his tongue hanging out as the clearing was filled with the moist sounds of Dogamy’s huge dick absolutely ravaging his hungry pussy and the sounds of his ecto-flesh pounding against Dogamy’s hips every time the large dog sunk to the hilt.

“That fucking slut, he loves it!” Doggo growled in pleased amazement as he began to run his paw slowly over the head of his throbbing dick, rubbing his precum along his length to lubricated himself.

 **“aaahn….huh….huh….mmm,mmm,mm,hn,hn,hn,hn, uhn….”** Sans panted, whining every time Dogamy pulled out, and keening every time he slammed back in, his body lying almost limp against the large dog monster. **“yes, yes, yes…”** he panted, his eyes going half lidded as he basked in the feeling of being stretched so wonderfully.

“Think the bitch is ready for more?” Dogaressa laughed. Sans barely heard her, but he felt Doggo press his hot dick against Sans’s puckered back entrance, and Sans only had a single moment to give the smaller dog monster a panicked look over his shoulder before the motion-blind dog shoved himself forcibly inside, and Sans cried out in pain as he felt his magic frantically try to accommodate the second intrusion, and he was certain that he had just taken some damage, his vision began to blacken around the edges.

 **“i...please...i only have 1 hp!”** he sobbed brokenly as he shifted his hips, trying to adjust to the new sensation. Dogamy had not even slowed his fierce pace for a moment, and Sans was finding himself thrust violently back and forth between the two dogs; they were not even trying to match paces and Sans felt as if he was being ripped apart and he was sobbing loudly.

“Watch it you idiots! We don’t actually want to dust the whelp!” Dogaressa snarled, and Sans felt the intrusion of his soul being checked, but he welcomed the unwelcome wash of examination because it both males paused their violent fucking and when they resumed they were moderately more gentle and began to match pace.

He still felt a burning pain in his ass and vagina, but when Dogaressa pressed a warmly glowing paw against his abdomen he could feel that she was healing him, and as the tears in his flesh healed all he could feel was pleasure, and his mind clouded over as he gave himself over to the sensations of being pounded, being so full, it was so much...not enough…

 **“more...please...more…”** he gasped wantonly as he arched his back, trying to angle his hips just so…

 **“AHHHHNN!”** He squealed when Dogamy found his G-spot, and shortly later Doggo found his A-spot, and by that point he was completely wrecked as he lay limp against Dogamy, drooling down his tongue has he panted heavily, his eyes rolled back as he was happily fucked senseless.

\--- --- ---

The dogs kept at him for hours. After they came the first time the both shoved their knots inside of Sans, which finally sent him over the edge into the longest, most violent orgasm of his life, and the continued stimulation of their knots had him coming a second and third time until he passed out from over stimulation.

When he had come to he was draped over the dentry station with Dogamy fucking him from behind, and when Dogamy finished and pulled out Doggo had taken a second turn, and then Dogaressa had used her long, limber, wonderfully hot tongue to clean him out before the males took over and fucked him unconscious all over again.

When he finally woke up again he was alone, naked on the sentry station except for his coat which had been thoughtfully laid over his shoulders; he could tell that it was almost the end of his shift which meant that it had been 6 hours since the dogs had walked in on him. He felt stiff, sore, and utterly used, but satiated.

For the first time, he was truly thankful that Boss had collared him, making him something like a honorary pack-mates to the other dogs, for which while they treated him like the lowest dog on the totem pole they did look out for him, and they had not killed him.

He slid slowly off of the wooden surface, but the moment his feet touched the snow and he began to put his weight on them his legs collapsed underneath him. He was exhausted, it was a good thing he’d actually had a good meal last night…

Last night…

Papyrus!

His eye lights flickered out and he shuddered as all his post-coital bliss vanished like dust in the wind.

Papyrus was going to be furious.

There was no way to hide the reek of sex all over him, the stain of dog cum all over his bones, the smell of dog and the remaining smell of his heat...it was obvious what he had done.

Papyrus just might kill him for this.


	5. Dust to Dust

Sans arrived at the sentry station, trembling and exhausted, feeling bruised and even more sore than he had at the end of his shift yesterday.

Papyrus had indeed not been in the least bit happy when he had come home, soaked in the cum of Doggo, Dogaressa, and Dogamy. The fact that he had been in Heat had not been an acceptable excuse, and although he had been still in need of relief his brother had refused to even come near him, much less touch him except to beat him almost senseless; his brother had been furious.

If Sans had not known otherwise he would have sworn his brother had been jealous...

But that was not possible. His brother had made it clear that he was just enraged that Sans was so incredibly weak, so worthless, that his body would actually go into heat when all it did was make him a target.

Granted, he had totally deserved it. All he had needed to do was Shortcut away...but his brother was right, he was a filthy slut. He’d wanted it. He’d asked for it, flaunting his scent in front of the dogs, tempting them.

He rubbed trembling phalanges over his sore eye sockets, trying not to cry.

All he wanted was to make Papyrus happy, why was that so hard?

But he was suddenly pulled from his self hatred when he heard something unusual from over near the Ruins. It almost sounded like the door…before he had realized what he was doing he had leapt out of the station and taken a shortcut.

(that door never opened)

Hiding behind some trees near the door to the Ruins, his disbelieving eyes saw that he had heard correctly, the door to the Ruins was indeed being pushed open by a very determined looking child. A small human child?! His eyes flickered out for a moment as he stared at horror at the very thing he had most feared.

A human.

(human, monster killer, dirty brother killer)

He had to brace a hand against the tree to keep from collapsing. He trembled so much his bones rattled. His grin widened reflexively, and his finger-claws clenched into a fist, digging furrows into the bark of the tree.

A human, now, after all this time? He had to stop it, he could not let it rampage. He might not have many friends, but he had a few. A couple. Grillby at least. And if the human was here that must mean Toriel was dead

(he’d never hear her laugh at his puns again)

at least, if not all the monsters that lived in the Ruins. And he could not let it get his brother. He could not survive if he had to see his brother die again, not ever again, not even if the human reset again after and brought him back.

(killer, killer…kill-or-be-killed)

He began to stalk the child, staying out of sight, his eyes never leaving them, not for a moment. They kept pausing and looking around, as if they could feel his eyes on their back, burning holes. As if they could feel the weight of their sins crawling up their back.

(sins, murder, kill or be killed, brother killer)

The human was not alone, but it took Sans a long time to notice. Eventually though he was able to focus on more than just the human, he became aware of his surroundings, and saw that the human had a small backpack, and in their arms a flowerpot with a flower sticking out of the top.

A familiar flower.

(Flowey)

Flowey.

(Flowey)

He actually froze in place when he realized who was with the human, and he was less careful with hiding his presence then he had been, and he stepped on a branch, snapping it with the sound of an ice flow shattering in spring. The sound was inordinately loud in the prior quiet of the practically dead forest.

(killer, brother killer)

The human spun around in a panic, a small hand clutching their chest. The other hand reflexively clutched the flowerpot tighter to them. The flower was peering up at the human, and Sans could vaguely hear his timid voice asking the human something, but Sans could barely hear over the sound of his soul pounding in his head. His vision swam and he began to feel light headed and everything was looking fuzzy.

(no, no more resets, he could not handle any more)

The kid was so young, smaller even than Sans. Was this child something that was going to destroy everything? Sans had to kill the human, but it was just a child? Papyrus would not have hesitated. He almost laughed and his grin widened so much that his eye sockets were curved with a mockery of glee.

(Boss would do it, no hesitation. why can’t you do something so simple? Coward. Weak.)

Well, may as well get this over with. He walked slowly to the child, waiting for it to draw a weapon. It just stood there waiting for him, Flowey pleading with it to move.

“heh, hey sweetheart, you look like you’ve seen a monster.” He started with a wide grin, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He considered holding out a hand for a shake, using the old-hand buzzer trick, it would be a great way to get a measure of the kid. The kid just stood there staring at him, Flower leaning over his shoulder, telling the kid to run. Stupid weed.

(no more resets please no more)

“now, is that any way to greet a new friend?” He chided with a rictus grin that had the kid falling back a step. He held out a hand, buzzer hidden in his palm. “don’t you know you are being rude, sweetheart?” He taunted with a sweet tone which did not match his expression.

(just get over here brat)

Despite Flowey’s pleas the kid (Frisk, Flowey had called it), came up to him fearlessly and took his hand with no hesitation. Sans laughed when the kid stumbled back with a yelp and he held up his hand to show the buzzer.

(stupid fucker)

**“haha kid, fell for the hand-buzzer trick! wasn’t that shocking?”**

(always with the fucking puns)

Frisk looked at him with a face full of shock, he did not even after say anything, his expression spoke loud and clear, rubbing his hand and giving Sans a pitiful look of reproach that had Sans laughing harder.

(dumb kid)

 **“nice is not a word used often down here….and you’re a human aren’tcha? Have not seen one of you around for almost 10 years.”** Sans mused while walking towards the kid, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets again. The kid flinched slightly but did not back away despite the weed’s pleading.

(suicidal kid)

Sans noticed that the kid looked a little worn. Shirt torn, hair singed, their face bruised. But they had no ash on their hands, no smell of death about them. Sans was momentarily confused.

(too clean, no dust)

 **“huh, kid. why are you so clean, how many monsters have you killed?”** He asked, curious, the kid shot him a shocked look and shook his head. Sans pulled back, taken aback so much that his eye went dim. He immediately checked the boy’s stats and fell back another step. The kid didn’t even have a single EXP. Was he insane?

(he hasn't killed? was he really human?)

 **“huh, you haven’t killed any? are you just that fucking dense, sweetheart? playing nice like that will just get you killed you know…”** Sans could not help the note of concern that entered his voice and cursed himself for his weakness for children.

(why hasn’t he killed, all humans killed, killed and killed and killed or be killed)

“That is what I’ve been telling him!”

(who asked you)

**“quiet weed, no one asked you…”**

(fucking reset flower, reset over and over and over never stop)

“WELL. Excuse me, _bossy-bones_ …”

(i love it)

 **“…”** Sans stared at the flower blankly. Since when had Flowey ever made a pun? He did not think the flower had ever had a sense of humor. Despite himself he found himself laughing weakly.

(that was great)

 **“so being _uprooted_ seems to have finally got you to _leaf_ that lack of sense of humor in the _ground_?”** He asked with a broad grin and a wink, and Flowey’s reaction to his puns was all he could have hoped for, but he had not expected to hear the kid giggle. He was sorely tempted to make more puns, make the kid laugh again, but he restrained himself, and after a moment the kid looked between Flowey and Sans.

(why must he be so cute)

Frisk pointed at Flowey and Sans and back and forth again. He still had not said anything, but Sans got the gist of what he was asking. He gave a shrug and glanced at Flowey.

(can’t let him live, may be cute, but must protect Boss)

 **“yeah, kid, flowey and i go way back. and just to be polite and get all the formalities out of the way, i am sans the skeleton.”** Sans explained with a friendly wink. The kid looked at him, all smiles, relaxed with him now despite Flowey continuing to warn him away.

(do it now, his guard is down)

 **“hey kid, you seem sweet, i really hate to do this, i do. but you can’t be left alive.”** Sans said, suddenly stern. The kid looked startled, so surprised, but ignoring what he had left of a conscience Sans tamped down the small voice in his mind telling him to stop. Raising his hand he allowed magic to flow to his eye, the red flare casting his face in shadows as he turned the kid’s soul blue. Frisk fell limp to the ground, reaching out a hand to Sans as if pleading for his life, all while holding Flowey protectively. Sans did not hesitate, but rained bones down, impaling the kid with an extreme lack of mercy. The flower too, just to be fair.

(do it for Boss)

After his adrenaline spike wound down, and he realized what he had just done his eye-lights flickered out leaving his eye sockets blank and empty and he fell to his knees slowly, watching the child he had just murdered in their death throes.

(did it for Boss)

Wouldn’t Papyrus be so proud?

(…)

Sans felt sick. Red tears boiled at the corners of his eye sockets before spilling down his cheeks. He felt bile rise in the back of the throat he did not have, and he heaved up the mustard he had eaten only a few hours ago into the snow by his knees. Heaving, he could not remove his eyes from the dead child which was suddenly gone.

(gone like he was never there)

**“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry”**

He dug his fingers into the snow, searching for a purchase as everything suddenly seemed to slip sideways, and his awareness flickered. It felt as if the world had just hiccupped. Something he had not felt in years….

(a reset)

A reset.

(No, not again, he couldn’t do it again, he couldn’t…)

Without realizing it he began to sob openly, his hands digging furrows underneath his sunken eye sockets.

(no no no no no no no no)

He was sitting at the sentry station now, his hands on the wooden grain. He started upright, looking around frantically. What had happened? Why was he crying?

(what happened)

A bolt of pain shot through his skull and he clutched his face moaning in pain. He remembered what had just happened, despite the fog that usually clouded his mind after a reset. The kid was coming. But he could not do it again, he could not murder Frisk.

(not again, not ever again)

**“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t”**

He sat staring at his hands until he heard the door to the Ruins open once again. With a despairing groan he rose slowly to his feet. Using the dregs of his energy he took a shortcut, this time going to meet the kid at the bridge, standing in front of the gate, his hands in his pockets. His eye lights were still dim and he was barely aware of the tears spilling down his cheek. He still smiled, but it was habit more than a show of emotion.

(why kid, why come back, why)

He waited, and soon was awarded to see Frisk approaching him slowly but calmly; Flowey was screaming at him to run, but the boy just smiled when he saw Sans. He held out a hand and Sans stared at it like it was a viper.

(go kid, run)

 **“aw kid, why…did you come back?”** He asked, trying to sound like his usual self, but it came out more like a broken sob. “you’re going to die out here, if not to me, than someone else.”

(he couldn’t do it though)

The boy hardly seemed to hear him and just kept approaching. Sans resisted the urge to flee. Papyrus would never forgive him if he ran from a mere human child.

(weak, pathetic, beaten by a child)

 **“i am supposed to stand guard, to bring any human that comes in to my brot-boss, he’ll dust me for sure this time if he finds out i let you go.”** Sans murmured more to himself than Frisk. The boy paused at that, looking briefly confused, and Sans heard Flowey explain that monsters turned to dust upon death and Frisk suddenly looked a little ill, but Sans had no idea why that would be.

(if not Boss, someone else)

“Your own brother would kill you?” Frisk asked softly, continuing to approach Sans again, and Sans jolted back a step, it was the first time he'd heard the boy speak. Sans trembled at the boy’s nearness, certain that he was about to pull out a knife and kill him, it would only be fair.

(more than fair…)

 **“i would deserve it for failing him, again. that is all i ever seem to do, i’m such a monumental fuck-up.”** Sans said with a bitter laugh. **"like, literally and everythin'!"**

(what was the kid waiting for)

“But…doesn’t your brother love you?” Frisk asked, sounding a little confused and sad. Pitying. Pity, great, that was all he needed now, for a human of all things to pity him, he really was pathetic.

(love did not exist)

 **“that’s a laugh, papyrus hates me!”** Sans said with even more slightly hysterical laugh. By this point the boy was standing in front of Sans, reaching a hand out to him. Sans flinched, closing his eyes, too cowardly to face his death. His eyes snapped open when he felt a gentle touch on his cheek, wiping away his tears.

(what was he waiting for)

**“sweetie, don’t leave me hanging. i can’t take any more of this, just kill me now, kid”**

“I want to be friends, Sans.” Frisk said softly with a bright smile.


	6. Friendship is MAGIC!

Sans was certain that he had heard the kid wrong. He flinched away from the gentle touch on his cheek, hunching his shoulders defensively and looking sadly at the kid, his smile never wavering.

(…)

 **“ah sweetheart, that’s real nice thought, but no one down here really does the friends thing.”** He tried to explain, tried not to be swayed by the kid’s apparent determination to comfort him. How dare this child be so cute! Sans instinctively felt the conflicting urge to protect him as a child and kill him as a human; a threat to everything he knew, to his brother. It was tearing him apart.

(what…do i do?)

Finally he made a choice and took the kid by the shoulders, Flowey started to freak out but the kid just kept looking at him trustfully. He started to nudge the kid through the gate.

 **“look, i won’t kill ya’, but you have to get out of here; keep an eye out for my brother, he’s tough, but he has a sense of fair play, he won’t hit’cha in the back or anything. But if you fight him, you’ll lose, he’s strong, the strongest monster down here.”** He warned, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice. Frisk just stared at him, his head tilting to the side with unspoken concern.

(i am trash, traitor…)

He pushed the kid forward.

(i can at least protect this kid)

 **“get going, i’ll be fine.”** He growled gruffly. The kid smiled up at him and took a step forward before turning and holding out a hand. Sans took the hand without thinking, half expecting a trick of some sort, but the boy simply pulled him forward. He wanted Sans to go with him? Sans felt his resistances crumbling.

(i could sneak him in…)

 **“i guess i could go with you a ways, make sure you don’t get lost or fall off the mountain, it would  horrible to have your adventure end on a cliffhanger.”** He said with a big grin. Flowey and Frisk just looked up at him. He coughed as the pun was in rather poor taste but the kid giggled after a few seconds anyway.

“Are you sure about this Frisk, he already tried to kill you once!” Flowey hissed suspiciously. Sans hunched his shoulders and glared at the flower; he knew there was no reason to trust him, but the flower was still a pain in the ass. He was about to point this out when the boy spoke up.

“It’s okay Flowey, we’re friends now!” the boy declared happily. His faith in Sans made Sans’ soul feel lighter than it had in months. He turned to beam at Sans. “Right?” Sans did not have the heart to break the kid’s smile.

 **“sure, sweetie. we’re friends.”** He sighed with a softer smile. Frisk looked ecstatic and wrapped his arms around Sans who flinched in terror for a moment before realizing that the kid was hugging him. How long has it been since he was shown some honest and simple affection?

(it’s nice)

He patted the kid’s back awkwardly with one hand. During this moment Flowey had taken the chance to get all up in his face, scowling. Sans returned the scowl, curling what a skeleton had in place of lips back from his shark-sharp teeth entirely. He was pleased to see the weed flinch back from his persistent stare, his eye lights shrunken to unstable pinpricks.

(serves him right)

He sensed a shrewd stare and looked down to see the boy looking reprovingly at him. Sighing internally he gave the flower a little poke with his free hand. The flower seemed about ready to bite him, but obviously thought better of it.

 **“hey, flowey. you remember me, right? you used to haunt my every step up to a couple years back, yeah? remember? we were…on good terms.”** He prompted softly. The flower looked annoyed but after a tense moment the flower nodded and looked down sadly.

“I remember Sans. You…you aren’t a bad sort. If not for…” Flowey paused and then continued while looking up at Frisk. “Sans knows about the resets, Frisk. He’s always been a little aware of them, even back at the beginning, but over time he slowly started remembering everything about them. But he can’t SAVE or LOAD himself. It…is hard to be aware and unable to do anything to stop or change what happens.” Flowey looked up at Sans sadly. “I…am sorry that…” Sans ran a finger down his petals a little roughly, making him flinch before softly covering the flower’s mouth.

(“my resets drove you insane”)

 **“me too, petals.”** Sans whispered softly, not wanting the flower to continue down that road of thinking. It hurt too much to contemplate their past together. Frisk looked confused but thankfully Flowey dropped whatever he had been about to say, although he muttered the pet-name beneath his breath with something like wry amusement.

Sans sighed slowly and pulled away from Frisk gently, and then after a moment of hesitation took his free hand and led him between the too wide gate that was ostensibly placed to block the bridge.

 **“well, come on kid, let’s get this over with. but if you see my brother, hide, okay? He is a human hunting fanatic. He’s obsessed with finding one you know, it would really make his day…”** Sans trailed off, his soul clenching when he realized that this was a betrayal. He started chuckling mirthlessly. **“it…it’s all he ever talks about really. i mean, when he isn’t telling me what a piece of trash i am.”** He continued sadly.

(and i am proving all those words truth now)

He looked down and saw that he was still holding the kid’s hand, and following Frisk’s arm up to his face he saw both him and Flowey looking at him with pity. He grimaced and let his smile twitch his lips back up.

 **“stop looking at me like that.”** He half-snarled, trying to remain calm. Flowey and Frisk glanced at each-other for a moment and then the kid smiled and tugged Sans’ hand and nodded towards the path.

(holding hands is nice)

Sans took the hint and started walking, guiding the happy child and thoughtful flower down the path and towards his sentry station. Just as they were reaching the station, Sans pausing to point out a humorously shaped lamp, he heard a familiar voice in the distance.

“YOU BETTER BE AWAKE, YOU MISERABLE PIECE OF SHIT, I MEAN IT! YOU MAY HAVE DONE YOUR DUTY FOR ONCE YESTERDAY, BUT THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE YOU TODAY!”

(oh no, no, no, why now, no no no no)

Sans stumbled and began to panic, looking hastily for somewhere for Frisk to hide. Frisk was beginning to look worried too and Sans felt him huddling against his back for protection. He felt a mixture of emotions at that; pleased that the child would actually feel that he could look to Sans to protect him, but anguished in that he knew he could not, and terrified that Papyrus would see him all but cuddling with a human of all things.

(he’s coming, he’s coming, protect the kid)

He turned to shove the boy away before Papyrus could round the corner and see them, and slipped on some ice, falling heavily on his tailbone. The unexpected impact had him curling into the fetal position, trying not to cry as his entire spine reverberated in pain. He barely noticed Frisk kneeling beside him, patting his shoulder and looking worried. Flowey briefly looked like he was caught between terror and concern before he turned to look towards Snowdin and begun to tug on the kid’s hair with his leaves.

(Boss is coming)

“Frisk, he’s coming!” Flowey said in a terrified whisper. Sans gasped in pain and managed to lift his head in time to see Papyrus enter the clearing, freezing in place with blazing eyes when he saw the small group and with a panicked insight Sans realized that it might look like the human had hurt him.

(protect the kid)

 **“frisk, get away!”** He gasped, trying to get to his feet to stop Papyrus’ attack. He had never seen such a furious look on his brother’s face before. If looks could kill the kid would have been dust in a nanosecond. He was so angry that Sans could actually see him trembling, and both eyes were glowing a lambent red that threw the rest of his face in shadows, so that all that was visible was his blood-thirsty eyes. Both hands were glowing with the same red, and after a long pause where he seemed to be trying to control himself he raised his hands, sending a wave of red and white bones straight towards Frisk.

(why does he care…why now…)

Without even having to think about the best course of action he grabbed the kid’s ankle and yanked, pulling him to the ground and out of the way of the onslaught of boney projectiles. And before the child could hit the ground as heavily as he did he caught the boy in his arms and finally struggled to his feet, although his coccyx still throbbed at the abuse. Frisk gave a small whimper and pointed over his shoulder and Flowey hid his face in the kid’s shoulder, shivering in fear.

(protect the kid)

“SANSSSSS….” Papyrus hissed in fury, his teeth gnashing audibly. Sans could feel his eye lights flicker out in panic and slowly turned to face his brother whom had somehow become more furious than he was before. If Sans was not seeing it with his own eyes he would not have believed it possible. He was even more furious now than he had been when he caught Sans trying to sneak in last night.

Sans slowly placed the child on the ground, his eyes never leaving Papyrus’ while the taller skeleton slowly stalked towards him, his fury practically emanating off of him in waves. He was so angry he could not even get out any more than a sputtering hiss, his mouth gaping loosely and his eyes a hectic gleam.

(protect the kid)

**“go on sweetie, get out of here, run.”** Sans told Frisk with a strangled whisper. He nudged the boy to get him moving, and with a frightened glance towards Papyrus the boy finally, FINALLY followed his and Flowey’s frantic plea and took to his heels running to the dubious safety of the sentry post, snow flying out in sheets about his feet, Flowey’s pot held tight in his arms. Papyrus flung his arm out to the side and sent a wave of bones at the fleeing child, and raising his own arm a panicked Sans sent a counter  wave to knock Papyrus’ attack aside.

(…)

Papyrus froze when he saw his attack countered and turned to face Sans as if he could not quite believe what he just saw, his hands twitching as though he longed to wrap them around his brother’s throat.

“YOU DARE….YOU….PROTECT A HUMAN? FROM ME? THE GREAT PAPYRUS?” Papyrus stuttered, so angry that he was practically incoherent.

(I have never seen boss so angry before)

**“uh…boss, you…..don’t…not usually…”** Sans stuttered with a big panicked grin on his face, sweat beginning to run down the side of his skull as he tried to find the words to sooth his brother’s rage. His eyes flickered left and right as he tried to think of a way out of this mess, but it looked like he just might have finally pushed Papyrus too far. He was about to shortcut back to the house, which would force Papyrus to cool down from his murderous intentions, but he made the mistake of meeting his brother’s eyes again, and he felt trapped like an idiot in the bitch Muffet’s web.

(that had only been the one time, but an unforgettable moment)

The intent look that Papyrus was giving him, the most focused attention Sans had received in months, was having a slightly unexpected reaction and Sans could feel himself responding with a pseudo-heat, even though he was not due for a Sub-heat for another month. He could feel a flush cover his cheeks and his soul began to beat widely in his chest and he began to pant with a frantic need; but he was not stupid even in a lust-addled state, and he knew that his brother was in no mood to tend to his ridiculous hormonal drives. Damn these useless fucking heat!

(he was such a filthy slut)

While Sans had been contemplating his body’s traitorous desires Papyrus had continued his delayed  journey across the field and was now only a couple feet away from him. Sans looked up at his brother, trembling, trying to plead with Papyrus for his pathetic existence, but although his mouth opened no sound emerged. Papyrus gave him such a look of disdain, of disgust, that Sans wanted to crumble into dust.

(it would be best if that were to happen, save his boss the shame)

Papyrus did even seem to find Sans worth the energy to use magic, instead all he did was raise his hand to his other shoulder, and then swing a blistering backhand straight into Sans’ face, knocking him across the clearing and into a tree, he crumpled against the bark with a sharp gasp as he felt ribs snap on impact and fell to the ground in a limp heap, whimpering, clutching his injured side with a trembling hand and trying in vain to crawl away from his brother who he could hear coming after him. But after a moment he gave up and just screwed his eye shut, waiting for his miserable life to be ended.

(please)

And waited.

(…)

“JUST. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?” Papyrus snarled in disbelief. Sans opened one eye a slit and then both eyes snapped open in equal disbelief. Frisk was standing in front of him, arms spread wide as he tried to protect Sans from his brother.

(Frisk)

“Sans is my friend.” Frisk said in a steady voice, louder than Sans had heard him speak before. His eyes skittered to the side and saw that Flowey had been set on the sentry station, safely out of the way, his trembling leaves covering his mouth as he watched in horror.

(friend)

“YOUR ‘FRIEND’?! FRIEND? YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH THAT THING? THAT PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT? WHAT POSSIBLE USE CAN HE HAVE FOR YOU? WHY WOULD YOU BOTHER?” Papyrus screamed in fury, so angry he was spitting. But to Sans’ shock, he, who knew his brother better than anyone, it sounded like Papyrus was close to tears. He gave a small, stuttering whimper and turned to see what Frisk’s response would be, even as he wilted at Papyrus’ description of him. It was all true though, what possible use could Frisk have for him?

“I like him.” Was Frisk’s simple answer as he smiled sweetly up at the skeleton that towered over him and could kill him with a single finger. He then turned,

(Turned his back on Papyrus)

and knelt down  to wrap his arms around Sans, his embrace so gentle that Sans almost wept as he looked up at his brother, pleading silently with him to not kill this child. This child who liked him.

(liked him)

Papyrus was so taken aback by the boy’s answer that he just stood there silently, his magic faded from his eyes and his hands. For the first time in years he looked to Sans to be at a loss for what to do, and his hands were trembling.

(don’t hurt him Boss…)

 **“…please”** Sans pleaded softly, his voice practically a whimper.

After what seemed like an eternity Papyrus turned on his heel, his shoulders rigid and his spine stiff. “YOU BETTER NOT LET ANYONE SEE HIM SANS.” Papyrus warned with a growl as he walked away. Sans could not believe his luck and before he could do more than reach up a hand to pat Frisk’s cheek lovingly, he passed out.


	7. Bringing home strays

 

_ “SANS, HEY SANS! SANS. SANS!” _

**_“hmm, what is it boss? you seem bone-ified happy.”_ **

_ “SHUT UP AND GET OVER HERE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!” _

**_“what, did you find a new noodle or something? you haven’t been this excited since you discovered spaghetti; it really was a great pasta time.”_ **

_ “I WILL LET THAT AWFUL PUN PASS FOR ONCE, FOR LOOK, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS AM NOW IN THE ROYAL GUARD!” _

**_“are you serious boss?! that’s amazing, i knew you could do it! you’re the strongest monster in the underground!”_ **

_ “NYEH HEH HEH HEH, WE BOTH KNEW IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME! WE ARE MOVING UP IN THE UNDERGROUND, BROTHER!” _

**_“well, you are, at least, and i’m so proud papyrus, you’ve worked so hard for this, you deserve it!”_ **

_ “AND NOW NO ONE WILL DARE MESS WITH YOU, THE BROTHER OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” _

Sans snapped to awareness all at once, panicked when he felt constriction around his ribs, and almost fell off his stool when he tried to shove himself upright. He tried to scream but all he could manage was a strangled whimper.

(dead, he was dying)

“Whoa, Sans, it’s ok! It’s just Flowey!” Flowey exclaimed, startled by Sans’s sudden movement. Sans slowly calmed down and took stock of his surroundings, his soul still beating wildly in his chest like a small terrified animal. He was sitting at his sentry station; his head had been pillowed on his arms like he was just asleep and not unconscious. Flowey had some vines holding him upright on his stool, and when Sans cautiously lifted his shirt and looked down he also saw that the flower was for all intents and purposes binding his broken ribs too. He slowly lowered his shirt; a little ashamed at how cracked and pitiful his bones were, hoping the kid hadn’t seen.

(pity was the worst thing)

Speaking of the kid…he looked around for Frisk, panic beginning to stiffen his spine in worry when he did not see the kid at first. Had something happened while he was unconscious? His eye lights flickered and he began to seriously freak out when Flowey tugged his vines slightly and Sans looked down.

Under his stand he saw Frisk curled up inside and out of the way, apparently asleep with Flowey’s pot cradled in his arms. All at once he found himself limp with relief. Flowey was looking up at him, seeming a bit concerned, but also smiling slightly. It was a nervous and uncertain smile, but it was sincere. Sans weakly returned the expression.

 **“uh, hey, petals. you uh…get me up here? why? how long was i out?”** He asked, softly so not as to wake the kid. He still felt a little out of it, and his ribs really hurt. And he was starving.

“Frisk and I got you up there, because we did not know how long you would be out, and did not want to try to get you to your house and risk being seen. Since you sleep so much anyways, if anyone wandered by you’d look normal. And it’s only been about an hour.” Flowey explained, waving his leaves for emphasis. Sans blinked at the flower as he absorbed his words. He chuckled.

(good thinking)

 **“the only option you two had really, well, now that i’m awake, i can shortcut us to my house, no worries about anyone seeing us.”** He said with a relieved grin, a grin that got wider when the events of this afternoon finally came rushing back and he remembered his brother’s parting words. **“and, uh, i guess, my boss is gonna let you both stay with us!** ” He added with a rush of something that was so unfamiliar to him that it took him more than several moments to realize it was happiness.

(was he happy?)

“Um, are you sure..?” Flowey asked, looking very uncertain about Sans’ conclusion. Sans just nodded enthusiastically. And then he remembered his brother’s exact words and shook his head. Then he raised his hands to grab his head because now he was dizzy and everything hurt. He could not think straight. His vision was going fuzzy again, he was so tired. He finally managed to get his mouth working again and tried his best to focus on Flowey.

 **“ok, well, maybe he did not…exactly say that…”** he trailed off, thinking of a better plan. He gave up after a few seconds. **“but i will still shortcut us to my house. we can continue this conversation with boss when he finishes his patrol.”** Sans decided, too tired to try and think of a more complicated scheme then just taking the kid home like a stray puppy and asking to keep it.

(Boss used to let him collect strays)

Frisk stood up and made some grandiose gestures that at first confused Sans, but then he got the impression that Frisk was suggestion Sans  make him an monster disguise. Sans stared at the kid in amazement. Flowey too. This kid may be the purest thing in the Underground, but he was not stupid. Sans scratched his cheek with a phalanx while he thought.

(good idea…)

 **“i think we can probably come up with something at that, kid.”** He finally replied with a wide grin, feeling more energetic and mischievous than he had all year. Frisk looked just as pleased with himself as Sans was. **“but first things first…”** He slid off the stool, cautious of the vines holding his ribs stable. He stretched a little to shake out the kinks of his body’s earlier abuse and then held out his hand to Frisk. Frisk got to his feet by himself, obviously not wanting to risk hurting Sans, and then took the hand, still grinning. **“ok sweetheart, got a secure hold on petals?”** When the kid nodded Sans gave a pull of his magic and thought of his living room. It would have been easier to shortcut to the outside of his house, but he did not want to risk anyone seeing the kid.

They appeared in the middle of the living room instantaneously, Sans falling to his knees with exhaustion. He raised a hand to his head and tried to stay conscious, that should not have drained him that much. He jumped with shock when he felt a hand land on his shoulder, and looked to see that it was only Frisk, looking concerned.

(he seemed to be getting a lot of that lately)

 **“ah, i’m okay sweetie, that just took a lot outta me.”** Sans said with a grin as he got shakily to his feet, one arm wrapping around his ribs protectively. Frisk still hovered worriedly by his side and Sans poked him in the forehead with a phalanx. **“i’m fine.”** He added a little embarrassed by such persistent concern. Frisk smiled and stepped back and after looking around he saw the couch and the boy practically skipped over the dark red furniture. Frisk seemed to be looking for something, and Sans just watched him silently, amused by the boy’s apparent joy of the layout of the room.

It wasn’t like they had a lot going on, they had a couch, a TV, an end table next to the couch, and a dining table. The kitchen was small and relatively crowded (but since Papyrus was the only one who cooked that did not really matter) and the stairs that led up to their bedrooms. The floor was covered with a dingy red carpet; the wall covered in peeling red paint; the wooden furniture was a dark color; the couch red and something that had really seen better days. But it was his and his brother’s without dispute, no one was allowed in here without Papyrus’ permission. It was Sans’ safe haven. And the couch at least was comfortable.

(which was a good thing since he passed out drunk on it so often)

Frisk finally seemed satisfied and he put Flowey’s flower pot on the little end table and then pulled the table carefully over until it was right next to the left arm of the couch. Once he had the table and Flowey positioned to his approval the boy trotted back to Sans and looked up at him expectantly.

(such a long time since anyone had expected anything but failure from him)

Frisk tugged his sleeve and made a few gestures as he demanded cutely that Sans make his disguise. Sans found himself reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair before he knew what he was doing, but the kid seemed to like it.

 **“sure thing, sweetheart.”** Sans murmured and he scratched the back of his head as he thought for a moment. **“i think there is some stuff in my room and the shed. Just take a seat and i’ll bring some stuff out to you.”** He continued with some more confidence. Frisk trotted over to the couch and sat next to Flowey. “um, watch some TV if you want, get a feel for…what the monsters down here expect…” He added as he gestured to the remote control on the couch next to Frisk.

He turned to go outside and heard Frisk turn on Mettatron, he hoped the kid was not traumatized. He opened the door cautiously and poked his head out, looking around a little nervously. It looked clear enough so he slipped outside and trotted over to the storage shed.

(he was such a coward)

Papyrus had set up a holding cell in the back half of the shed, but they had some boxes of junk in here too, and there was also a hatch in the floor which led to Sans’ lab with what he had left of Gaster’s projects on the rare occasion he felt like messing with the dimensional transporter which had blasted Gaster across reality. He had attempted to fix the machine at first, he really had, but after reset after reset stymied his attempts he had eventually just given up completely, and that just added one more level to his feeling of worthlessness.

(and he was the only one who remembered Gaster anyways, not that it made things easier)

He also has some other odds and ends of Gaster’s too. So without even checking the boxes next to the cell he opened the hatch and dropped down, jarring his ribs so much that he had to bite back a scream. He had forgotten his injuries for a moment there. Panting with pain he flipped the lights on. It was a dank little cellar, but it was secure, and a bit warmer than outside was. And the wind was kept out at least; the shed above was not exactly well chinked.

(he knew that well for the times he’d had to sleep in here for punishment)

He rubbed a trembling hand down the side of his face and slowly approached one of the boxes set in the back corner of the rome, brushing cobwebs aside with his other hand (but leaving the spiders alone, Muffet would have his head if he bothered her subjects) and he knelt down to dig through the box.

After going through the first box he went through a second and third. To his satisfaction he found several lengths of shimmering black fabric, a handful of metallic rings of varying size, some metallic disks and wires, pieces of black leather, and some old bone masks of Gaster’s.

(what did he need so many faces for…)

With these supplies he was able to put together a monster disguise for the little human. He did not have the boy on hand for measurements, but he had a good eye for details. He hadn’t actually designed any clothing in years, and he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

He fashioned a floor length cloak with a cowl-neck that would shroud his form completely, but it tapered up the sides, so his arms would be free of hindrance from the elbows to his hands. He sewed together some shoulder length gloves of some more of the black fabric, and some fabric that would cover him from chest to chin and would latch to sleeves on front and back. He made some shoes with more black fabric and lined in the leather to make them shaped like paws. He created some bracelets out of some of the metal rings which would latch around Frisk’s wrists and using the wires attached to some metal disks which would lay over the boy’s middle knuckles to create the appearance of inhuman hands, the disks were sewn onto straps of leather so that the bracelet and rings could slide right over top of the gloves. He also had a ring to go about the boy’s throat. And a hit of inspiration had stuck him when he saw a leather satchel, he created a little pocket for Flowey that could sit at the small of the boy’s back so that Flower could peek over his shoulder and he even fashioned a spot in his cowl where he could secure himself. And finally to cover the boy’s face he took one of the bone masks and drilled large oval eye holes on either side of the triangular nose ridge and carved in a smile. He also imbued some magic to make the mask a little emphatic so that the boy could emote through it to a degree. He would style the boy’s hair over the straps so that no one could tell it was a mask, and finished it off with a headband of some more of the leather black fabric.

No one would think him a human at all seeing him in such a disguise. He could claim to be moving here from the Hotlands; as Papyrus’ apprentice perhaps, and befriend the villagers all her wanted.

He was rather proud of his results and bundled everything in his arms, eager to show Frisk his work. He climbed the ladder that was set in the wall with a lighter step then he’d taken in months, and turned out the light with a flip of blue magic. He shut the hatch behind him with a second push of magic, feeling giddy, and for once, happy, despite his still broken ribs.


	8. A small piece of happiness

**“hey, sweetie, look what i made for you!”** Sans called out as he entered his house. Frisk had apparently fallen asleep but he jumped to his feet eagerly enough to investigate what Sans had for him. Sans bundled the accessories into the crock of one arm and shook the cloak out with his other hand with a flourish.

Frisked fingered the material curiously and then bent down to look for the opening, and once he did he swarmed into the cloak like a bunny into a burrow. Sans found himself chuckling at the boy’s eagerness. Frisk eventually got it on the correct way although he had to tug and pull to get it to lie right. Once done he spun in place with his arms out as if presenting himself.

**“looks good on you kiddo. i just wanted to check to fit; when you go out in the open you need to put all these on before putting on the cloak.”** Sans explained while nodding at the accouterments in his arm. Frisk nodded his understanding and went to show Flowey his new outfit.

Sans chuckled and lay the gloves, bracelets and necklet, boots, mask, neck guard, and Flower-pack on the couch and decided to continue being productive and try his hand at making dinner. He’d watched Papyrus do it more times than he could count, how hard could it be?

He walked to the kitchen, stopping to take his hoody off and lay it over the back of one of the dining chair on the way. Before he could make it into the kitchen Flowey called out.

“Hey, um, Sans, why don’t you let me and Frisk take a look at your ribs? We really should have bound those earlier…”

Sans paused, shocked that someone would be offering him medical attention. He turned slowly to look at the flower and saw that he had been sincere in his offer. He flushed with embarrassment and clutched an arm protectively around himself. He took a nervous step back but before he could flee Frisk came trotting up to him and took his free hand, tugging him towards the couch.

“Where are your bandages?” Flowey asked, waving his leaves. Sans scratched the side of his face once Frisk released his hand.

**“uh…i have a box of some in my room…”** he started, gesturing to the second room on the second floor that could just be seen from the couch. “i can go get them…” he started but Frisk just took off to go up the stairs himself. Sans was briefly a little concerned about the kid entering his room, but decided after a moment that he did not exactly have anything that would scar the kid for life or anything.

As long as the kid did not go digging under his bed. He flushed thinking about his assortment of ‘toys’ that he had collected over the years; most of them gifts from Papyrus. He reached up to tug on his collar a little bashfully and turned to sit on the couch near Flowey.

There was an awkward silence building between the two.

**“did the kid enjoy the TV?”** he asked, a little desperate for conversation.

“He…did not really understand some of it, and I think it made him a bit sad, but he laughed a couple times…” Flowey answered after a moment.

**“that’s good…”** he answered lamely. He coughed awkwardly and then growled obscenities under his breath when his ribs were jarred. Before he could do more than sit back up and lean back against the back of the couch Frisk came trotting back down stairs, a medical kit in his hands. He looked quite pleased with himself.

**“oh good, you found it. good job sweetie.”** Sans praised and the boy beamed up at him happily.

Frisk placed the box on Sans’ lap and then climbed onto the couch next to him and began to pull at his shirt. Wincing, Sans lifted his arms up, flinching a bit when Flowey manifested some vines to help from the other side. With the help of Flowey they got his t-shirt off without causing him too much more pain, and he lifted his arms above his head to allow them access to his ribs. Frisk sat on the couch beside him, and he and Flowey worked together to wrap him, Sans advising them on how tightly to wrap the bandages. After one false start the managed to successfully secure his ribs so that he would not injure himself.

Sans pulled his shirt back on, glad that neither the flower nor the kid had asked about his cracked bones. He really did not want to talk about that with them. They were a sign of his weaknesses.

He turned to ask the kid about his experiences binding wounds to see the he was trying to figure out the monster disguise. He bit back a laugh as the kid stubbornly tangled himself in the cloak while trying to get the accouterments straightened out.

**“heh, sweetie, you'll need to take off your sweatshirt. this will be warm enough, don't worry.”** Sans instructed with a grin. When the boy obediently pulled his sweatshirt off Sans continued. **“first pull on this neck-cover; it's stretchy, just pull it on, then the sleeves and latch them to the neck cover. then put in this necklet and pull on these bracelets and finger guards. then these boots instead of your shoes, you can keep your pants. and now the cloak, and finally this mask, i enchanted it to reflect your expressions and mood, so you can emote through it.”** Sans continued to explain while Frisk followed his instructions. He admired his handiwork for a moment with a hint of pride and walked around to boy to check the back.

**“how does it fit, comfortable?”** He asked curiously. The boy spun in a circle and gave him an enthusiastic thumb up.

“That looks really good Sans, he does not look human at all, except for his hair.” Flowey commented with a grin. 

**“yeah, well when the kid actually goes out i will style his hair to cover the mask straps and this headband to cover his hair line. also i have this pouch for your pot to fit in for him to wear and part of the cowl has a slot for you to set yourself into so you can go with him.”** Sans explained, holding up the pouch.

“Oh, that looks wonderful, thank you Sans!” Flowey exclaimed, looking pleased with his thoughtfulness. Sans flushed with quiet pleasure at the praise and then jumped slightly when small arms were thrown carefully about his hips as Frisk hugged him.

**“glad you like it, sweetie. um, i am gonna make dinner now, if you think of anything i can add to your disguise, pockets, ways to make your hands look more inhuman, let me know.”** Sans said a little awkwardly, still not used to such simple and open affection. He patted the kid’s head and gently pulled away. 

This time he made it to the kitchen without any further distractions and pulled out the ingredients for the sauce, the meat, and the noodles. 

He stared at them blankly for a moment. He had not tried to cook in months, maybe a year. He began to tremble, nervous, but the thought of his brother coming home to dinner, praising him again, was enough to motivate him. 

He set a big pot of water on the stove to boil, put the ground meat in a pan to brown, and began to cut up the tomatoes, onions, and spices before dumping them in another pot with water and a handful of flour. Once the first pot was boiling he added the noodles, and once the meat was brown he dumped it into the sauce.

Around then was when Papyrus came stomping into the house, still obviously annoyed. Sans had whirled to face the door nervously when he heard it slam open, and saw Frisk out of the corner of his eye, still in disguise and holding Flowey in his arms now. 

Papyrus’ eyes were blazing be with red fury and his face was flushed with anger, but when he saw his brother standing by the stove in the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand, his anger turned into confusion. 

“SANS...ARE YOU COOKING?” Papyrus asked incredulously after a long silent moment in which a pin dropping could have been heard. Frisk was staring nervously at Papyrus.

Fearing chastisement, Sans stumbled back from the stove. **“yes…boss...i...thought you...would like to come home to dinner for once…”** Sans answered in a soft voice, dropping his eyes to the floor. 

Papyrus came striding across the room to investigate his efforts and gently placed a hand on Sans’ shoulder as he walked up to him, tugging him nearer to his side as he peered at the sauce. 

Sans stared up at his brother with wide eyes, eye lights large in pleasant shock, his cheeks slowly flushing red as he felt lust coil in his pelvis, the remnants of his Heat still remained. He waited for his brother to realize what he was doing, to shove him away, but he did not, in fact he slid his hand along the back of Sans’ neck and across to his other shoulder, hugging the smaller skeleton to him while he gently took the wooden spoon from Sans’ unresisting fingers and tasted the sauce. 

This was the most simple affection he'd gotten from Papyrus in over a year. He would do anything, give anything, if only his brother would be like this with him, always. He could not keep the adoration out of his eyes, or suppress the shuddering gasp he made when Papyrus’ fingers stroked his shoulder lightly while he checked the noodles, although he seemed a bit dubious about the outcome.

Papyrus shifted to look down on him, apparently about to comment about the quality of the food but he froze when his eyes met Sans’ and Sans saw a quick flush color his cheeks before he turned away, his hand dropping from his brother’s shoulders, and while Sans felt a little lost from the loss of contact, he was still too buoyed by the show of affection to feel hurt. 

“THIS TASTES LIKE SHIT.” Papyrus growled with disgust, but at his brother’s hurt gasp he continued, “BUT IT IS AN ACCEPTABLE FIRST ATTEMPT.” He turned the heat off on all the burners, handed the saucepan to Sans and turned to drain the noodles into the sink and pour them into a bowl before gesturing to Sans to pour the meat sauce over the noodles. 

He was turning to take the food to the table when he finally saw the still disguised Frisk. He just about dropped the plate of spaghetti but Sand used some blue magic and lifted it to the table. Papyrus did not seem to notice, he just pointed at Frisk in indignation. 

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT AND WHY ARE THEY IN MY HOUSE?!”

**“um, boss, that is….is frisk, the...human child. i...made him a disguise…”** Sans murmured gently while walking to the table and gesturing to the child to join him. He pulled out a chair for a Frisk who gently placed Flowey at his elbow, and then turned to pull out the second chair for Papyrus. 

Papyrus had been staring intently at Frisk all the while, glancing at Sans every so often as if considering. He took his seat silently while still staring at Frisk, Sans was waiting nervously for the inevitable explosion, twisting his fingers together nervously.

Papyrus said nothing as Sans went into the kitchen and came back out with three plates (he reasoned that if Flowey wanted any Frisk could share off his plate) and forks and a serving spoon. He still said nothing as Sans placed a plate and fork before him and Frisk. He slowly served himself a decent portion and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully while Sans and Frisk and Flowey watched.

“IF HAVING THIS HUMAN CHILD AROUND WILL ACTUALLY CAUSE YOU TO BECOME PRODUCTIVE, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL ALLOW HIM TO STAY!” Papyrus finally announced with a bombastic wave of his hand as he began to eat in earnest. Frisk applauded happily, Flowey looked relieved, and Sans flushed in pleasure, clutching his plate to his chest, almost afraid that he must have been dreaming, this was almost too good to be true.

He watched his brother and his new friends eating (although Flowey really did not seem to need much), for a few moments before taken his only serving and he took a seat on the floor between Papyrus and Frisk. He could not remember the last time he was so happy.

If only it would stay this way forever.

But he knew resets would never stop, he would just enjoy what he had while he had it.


End file.
